


Adjusting to Life on the Ground

by Korkorali



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Della Duck, Bisexual Donald Duck, Caring Scrooge McDuck, Della Duck Has PTSD, Della Duck Needs a Hug, Della Duck has ADHD, Della Duck is a Stronk Lady, Donald Duck Needs a Hug, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frenimes Galore, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Donald Duck, Parent Della Duck, Parent Donald Duck, Sibling Love, Trauma, Whump, at least a little, but thats not the main focus, no beta we die like illiterate fools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korkorali/pseuds/Korkorali
Summary: A bunch of loosely-connected one-shots surrounding Della Duck adjusting to life in Duckburg after ten years on the moon.Angst, Sadness, Hugs, and Chocolate Chip Cookies inside.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck, Della Duck & Everyone, Della Duck & Gyro Gearloose, Della Duck & Huey Duck, Della Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 45
Kudos: 118





	1. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a storm blows in, Donald is forced to bunk up with Della. But where could she be?

Donald grumbled as he wrung his shirt out and stepped inside the mansion through the kitchen door. Scrooge followed shortly after, shaking the rain off.

“Ah’m glad ye decided to stay the night in the mansion, lad.” Scrooge said.

“Whatever,” Donald rolled his eyes, trying to wipe away the water on the floor with his foot. “It’s just because it’s storming out.”

And boy was it storming. It had been raining pretty heavily for almost an hour now, and the wind was beginning to pick up. The sailor in Donald was certain that lightning and thunder would start any minute now.

“Aye, that it is,” Scrooge chuckled. “Welp, anyways, Ah’ll have Duckworth set ye up in Della’s room. If ye could let her know, that’d be great.”

“What! Why am I bunking with Della? Don’t you have any guest bedrooms available?”

“Oh, quit yer whining!” Scrooge smacked Donald on the head. “Della’s bedroom has plenty o’ space fer the both of ye!”

“Still,” Donald groused, rubbing the back of his head. “What about the spare bedrooms? There where plenty when I was a kid, and I’m pretty sure that the mansion hasn’t gotten any smaller since then.” If anything, it had gotten bigger.

“Oh, donnae be so _wasteful_ , lad! Ah’m sure ye can stand _one night_ bunking with yer sister again! Ye were perfectly fine with it when ye were kids.” Actually, as far as Donald remembered, he hadn’t been _‘perfectly fine’_ with it, even when he was younger, but that was besides the point.

This was why he hated sleeping in the mansion (well, one of the reasons). His uncle, ever the miser, would always force him to sleep in the same room as someone else. And Donald had grown to like having his own space, thank you very much!

As his uncle went off to fetch Duckworth, Donald decided that he should try to find his sister sooner rather than later. He could hear sounds coming from the living room. As he went to investigate, he saw Beakly dusting in the hall. “Hey Mrs. Beakly, do you know where Della is?”

“Hello Donald, good to see that you haven’t been caught out in the storm.” Mrs. Beakly replied. “As for your sisters whereabouts, I’m afraid I haven’t got a clue. The kids might know, however. They’re in the living room right now.”

“Yeah, I thought I heard ‘em earlier. Thanks anyways, Beakly.”

“Anytime, Donald.” Mrs. Beakly said as she went turned back to her dusting.

Donald wandered into the living room just in time to hear Louie groan in anguish as a character on the TV screen went flying off the stage. “Oh come on, I had you there!”

“Hah!” Dewey laughed smugly, brushing his shoulder with his fist. “Never count the Dew-spicable Dewey Duck out of a fight!”

“Whatever,” Louie grumbled, shoving Dewey’s shoulder. “And stop with the stupid Dew-whatever stuff, it’s getting old.”

“I think it’s great!” Piped up Webby from her spot on the couch, her hand in a bowl of popcorn.

“Of course you would, you think everything we do is great.”

“Not true!” Webby countered. “I don’t like it when you Pull A Louie.”

“Ooooh, Burn!” Dewey cackled.

“She got you there” Huey added.

“What is this, gang up on Louie hour!?” Cried Louie, outraged. “What even is _‘pulling a Louie’_ , anyway? And why did you say it like it’s capitalized?”

“Hey kiddos,” Donald interrupted, making his prescience known before things could get too out of hand.

“Hey Uncle Donald!” Dewey and Webby said simultaneously.

“Save me from these jerks, Uncle Donald!” Louie moaned, turning from the screen to complain to his uncle.

“Do you need anything, Uncle Donald?” Asked Huey.

“Yeah, kiddo.” Donald said, then he turned to the screen as it displayed a win screen. “What game are you playing?” He asked, momentarily forgetting his original reason for entering the room.

“Super Smash Birds Ultimate!” Dewey replied eagerly, bouncing up in his seat. “It’s a game where you fight each other to death!”

“Astute,” Louie mumbled.

“You get to choose who you fight as from a list of characters that appear in other Birdtendo games.” Huey helpfully supplied.

“Huh. Y’know, I think Dells and I used to play something similar when we were in our teens.” Donald said, watching the screen as Dewey and Louie began picking from a rather large roster of fighters. “Lots more characters than I remember, though.”

“Well yeah,” Louie said. “It’s a remake, see? And every time Birdtendo comes out with a new Super Smash Birds, they add new characters. Of course, despite that, Dewey will _only ever play the broken characters_.”

“So says the Cloud main.” Dewey griped back.

Louie glared at Dewey as he picked Cloud.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Donald interrupted, getting back on track. “I wanted to ask if any of you know where your mother is.”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Why?” Dewey said distractedly as he and Louie began round two.

“I need to tell her that I’m sleeping in her room tonight.”

“Wait, are you moving back into the mansion!?” Webby asked, her full attention now on him and not on the game.

“Uh, no. No, I’m just staying for the night, it’s really storming out.” The kids all paused for a second to listen to the sound of rain hitting to roof of the mansion. “But yeah, only staying the night, and Scrooge decided to put me in Della’s room, so I need to tell her about it. I also need to ask where her room is, now that I think about it.”

“What, she didn’t set up in your old room?” Dewey asked.

“No, you guys are sleeping in there.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

Huey pondered for a second. “Hmm, last I recall, Mom said that she was heading out front of a second.”

“Really?” Donald asked, confused. “It’s raining pretty heavily.”

“That’s what she told us.” Huey shrugged.

“Hmm,” Donald mused. “Alright, guess I’ll check. Thanks kiddos.”

The kids murmured words of acknowledgment as Donald walked away, their attention already back to the game.

Della probably wasn’t outside anymore. As far as Donald knew, she had disliked rain (and storms, for that matter) her entire life. But hey, maybe he’d find somebody else who knew where she went. He hoped he would find her soon. The longer he went without hearing or seeing her, the harder it was to quell the fears that something had happened. He knew it was stupid, but his anxiety would just kept pushing his worst fears to the surface: the idea that some monster had kidnapped her, that she had been accidentally transported back into space, that she had run away-

No. He hated it when he thought that one. She wasn’t going to run away. She wouldn’t do that.

But she had once. She had once, so what if she did so again? No, no, that was wrong. She hadn’t run away, she’d gotten trapped. She didn’t run away. She didn’t run away. _She didn’t run away_. (He would keep telling himself that until he believed it.)

...Yeah, he should probably talk to his therapist about that before it got worse. For now though, he’d settle for finding Della.

All the way to the front doors -which, to be fair, wasn’t that far- Donald didn’t come across anyone else, which was kind of a shame. He wasn’t sure where she could be, maybe further into the mansion? But Donald wasn’t really comfortable with exploring the rest of the mansion for her. It’s not that he didn’t know it’s layout, Donald didn’t think he could ever forget that, but it was anyone’s guess as to which rooms were cursed or had any cursed objects in them at the moment. (Huh, could that have been why Scrooge didn’t want him to sleep in any of the guest bedrooms? Nah.)

Donald huffed. He supposed he could check outside, just in case. Maybe she’d taken refuge in the garage? Yeah, that sounded about right. _‘And if not,’_ Donald thought as he opened the front door, _‘I could always ask Launchpad if he’s seen-‘_

...Welp, he found Della.

She was standing right out front. Absolutely soaked. Just staring up into the rain as it came down in spades.

“What are you doing!?” Donald yelled over the wind at her. “It’s storming out!”

He saw her mouth move, but couldn’t make out any of the words over the wind. “What? I can’t hear you! Speak up!”

Della turned around at that, her eyes full of a broken wonder-like nostalgia, rain streaming down her cheeks. “It’s raining, Donnie!” She laughed. “It’s actually raining!”

Donald stared at her like she was missing a few screws (a rather familiar stare). “Yeah, I can see that! Now get inside!”

“Aw come on Donnie, just a few more minutes!”

“Wh- no!” Donald sputtered. “It’s storming! You’ll catch a cold!” Thunder boomed overhead. “And you’ll get struck by lightning!”

“But-“ Della looked conflicted, glancing back up into the storm clouds.

Donald sighed, aggravated. “We can go jumping in puddles after it calms down, would you like that?”

He saw Della’s eyes light up as he said that. “Can we?!” She asked eagerly.

Donald blinked. He’d been being sarcastic, he didn’t actually think that his sister would react so positively to the idea. “Um. Okay, sure. But not if you get a cold, so get inside!”

“All right, all right, hold yer horses, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Della skipped inside, shaking herself off when and getting water all over Donald.

“Whoops, sorry.” She commented, not looking sorry at all.

“Whatever.” Donald groused as he rung out his shirt for the second time in an hour. “What were you even doing out there? In that? I thought you hated rain.”

“Yeah, well, It doesn’t rain on the moon, y’know?”

“...oh.”

“Heh, yeah. ‘Oh’.” Della paused. “I just. I haven’t felt it in so long, y’know? So when I saw it was raining, I said to myself _‘man, it sure has been a while since you’ve seen rain, right?’_ And then I couldn’t stop myself from wondering about what it felt like, or what it tasted like, and then I was all like _‘well gee, Della, it’s right there, why don’t you just go find out yourself?’_ And then I got all excited -like, can’t think straight excited, you know the type- and so I just. Went out.” She petered off. “Heh. I guess I lost track of time, huh?”

“It’s fine,” Donald reassured her. “Just change out of your wet clothes or you’ll catch hypothermia.”

“Pfft,” Della laughed. “You’ve turned into such a _mother_ , Donnie.” Her focus drifted off to a stray string on her jacket that she’d been playing with. She frowned slightly picking at it a bit harder. “Why’d you come searching for me anyway?”

“Oh yeah. I decided not to sleep on the houseboat tonight -they don’t say it, but the boys always get worried about it when it storms- so Scrooge set me up to bunk in your room and said to tell you about it.”

Della scoffed, “Seriously? Old McMoneybags has dozen’s of spare bedrooms, and he couldn’t give you _one_?”

“That’s what _I_ said!” Donald exclaimed.

Della and Donald looked at each other then, and they were probably both rather tired, because that was all it took to get them breaking down into giggles. The kids walked in while they were still going and asked what was wrong, to which Della responded with a breathless “ _McMoneybags!_ ” Which sent her and Donald back into the depths of wheezy giggling.

The kids all leveled one long unimpressed look at each other and just said “grown-ups.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the storm calmed down, Donald took Della to the park where she happily splashed in puddles to her hearts content.  
> Immediately afterwards she got a cold.
> 
> Y’know, there is a serious lack of Della angst/comfort and general fluff/silliness in this fandom and if I have to be the one to fix that then damnit I will be.  
> Seriously.  
> I have, like, a list.


	2. Swearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duck family is trapped by a puzzle, and it’s up to Della to solve it! Let’s hope she can do so before her potty mouth gets her in trouble!

Della sighed: she was totally stumped. In her defense, her entire family was stumped too, but still.

“Oh come on lass, donnae give up now! The treasure’s just in the next room, Ah’m sure of it!” Uncle Scrooge said, tapping his cane on the ground of the puzzle room that the group (Donald, Della, Scrooge, and the kids) was in.

“I’m not _giving up!”_ Della exclaimed, like that would be the most horrific thing she could ever do in the whole world. “I just, Y’know, need to approach this from a different angle. Yeah, that’s it!” Della bounded back to the door the group had entered through in order to get a good look at the entire chamber.

“Alright,” Della began, thinking out loud, “we’re trapped in a hexagonal room. There are two big doors; one we just went through, and another directly opposite that we’re pretty sure-“

“-ye mean we’re absolutely certain.” Scrooge interrupted.

Della glared at him. “...right. And a big door that we’re “absolutely certain” leads to the treasure room, above which lies a row of tiles with symbols on ‘em, with four tiles missing.”

“The symbols are actually the alchemical symbols of the four elements, each symbol representing the elemental catastrophe taking place in it’s mosaic respectively.” Huey supplied.

“Yep!” Della ruffled his head affectionately. “Also the word symbol no longer means anything to me anymore. Anyways! On either side of that door -ooh, let’s it the treasure door!- Okay-okay, on either side of the treasure door are two statues each, all kinda weirdly humanoid in shape.”

“-And they will, let’s be real here, probably come alive at some point and attack us.” Louie added.

“Well- ...okay yeah, probably.” Della acquiesced. “But I’m sure we’ll be outta here before that happens!” Della grinned at her child.

Said child raised an unbelieving eyebrow at her.

“...Shut up.” Della turned away from Louie and back to the room. “Right, where was I?”

“You just finished describing the treasure door wall!” Dewey shouted out helpfully. “The treasure door’s wall. The treasure’s door wall?” He corrected(?) himself, which wasn’t really as helpful.

“Thanks Kiddo! And I think you had it right the first time.” Della said. “Alright. The other four walls in the room all have mosaics on them, -one mosaic for each wall- and they’re all depicting different catastrophes brought about by the four elements. Finally, right before entering the chamber, Webby read an inscription on the wall that was supposedly a hint left by the ancient guardians of this place. Webby?”

“ _Four elementals trapped in stone,/ Their elements ordered to lock their home./ Even patterns against all odd,/ A tile misplaced awakens its god./ In proper order safely seal these four,/ Or best one of each to open the door._ ” Webby recited.

“...the ancient language of this temple rhymes perfectly when translated into english?” Huey questioned.

“Eh,” Webby moved her hand in a so-so gesture. “I might have taken some creative liberties. Why, do you think it’s bad?”

“It was wonderful Webby!” Della was quick to assure her.

“But if it’s a wordplay hint, there’s a good chance that the whole rhyme is useless when translated.” Huey said.

Huh. Huey had a point. “Let’s just say it won’t matter, huh?” Della said, projecting confidence she didn’t necessarily feel. She turned back to the treasure door, humming. “Hmm. We found four tiles scattered about the temple, right?” She asked.

“Yep, got ‘em right here.” Scrooge said, holding up four tiles.

“Awesome. And each of the tiles has a symbol that corresponds with one of the four elements, like the treasure door wall, yeah?”

“Okay, is ‘treasure door wall’ seriously making anyone else think of ‘man door hand hook car door’?” Dewey interrupted.

The kids all gave sounds of agreement, and Della stared back at them with a look of confusion bordering on fear. “....Man door hook door _what???_ ”

As Huey took in a deep breath that signified the beginning of a long and confusing explanation, Donald cut in, rubbing his temples. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a meme.” He stated.

Della’s expression remained unchanged (if anything, it shifted more towards fear). “A _what_? A _Meem_? Is that some sorta ghost or spirit or something?”

Dewey gasped in horror. “Mom! You don’t know what memes are!? How!?”

Della sputtered, trying to come up with an excuse. Louie stepped forward, snapping his finger. “Hey, confusing puzzle room that we are currently trapped in, hello-o? Anybody wanna focus on _that_ , maybe?”

“Right-right-right, okay-okay-okay, getting back on track.” Della shook her head, as if to clear it. “Okay. The symbols on the tiles are like the ones on the treasure door wall, right?”

“Aye lass, they are.” Scrooge said.

“Hmmmmmm,” Della rubbed her chin, thinking. “Aha!” She snapped, “I think I got it! Give me the tiles Uncle Scrooge!”

“Alright, go for it.” Scrooge said as Della snatched the tiles from his grasp.

“I think we’re supposed to place the tiles on the mosaics! Each symbol seals it’s respective element, right? So, if the tiles with the correct elemental symbols are placed at the right mosaics, the elements will be sealed and the door will totally open!” Della confidently went to each mosaic and placed the tile with the correct symbol on each of them.

First was the mosaic of a tsunami taking out a costal town. In front of it she placed a tile with a downward facing triangle, the symbol for water.

Second was the mosaic of a wildfire destroying a forest. She placed an upward facing triangle in front of that one, the symbol for fire.

Third, the mosaic of a hurricane wrecking havoc in a city. In front of that one she placed an upward facing triangle with a line through it, the symbol for air.

Finally, she placed a downward facing triangle with a line through it -the symbol for earth- in front of the mosaic of an avalanche taking out a group of explorers. She quickly rushed back to the center of the room, looking expectantly towards the treasure door.

One second.

Five seconds.

  
  


Ten seconds.

The door didn’t open. “Fuck.” Della sighed. She was sure that would work! Did she misplace one of the symbols? No, they were all at there collective walls. Maybe she had to place the symbols in the mosaics? But there wasn’t anywhere for the tiles to slot in!

“Della!” Donald quacked, sounding scandalized for no reason.

“What.”

“Language!”

“What?” Della turned toward her family, all of whom were looking at her with a range emotions on their faces, from affronted to gleeful. “What do you mean, _language_? I didn’t swear.”

“Yes you did! You literally just said the f-word!”

Della took a second to think back. Yeah, she totally said fuck. Whoops. “Shit, sorry. Fuck I mean- Shit!-Fuck-goddammit-sorry! Fuck! Fuck!!” She placed her head in her hands.

_“Della!!”_ Donald said her name, sounding even more scandalized.

“ _SORRY!!!_ Sorry! fu-sorry. Just. Sorry.” Della breathed, finally catching her mouth. She chanced a glance back up at her family. Donald looked horrified, Scrooge looked mildly disappointed, and the kids all looked like Christmas had come early.

“I can’t believe you! Just _swearing_ , like it’s _nothing_ , right in front of the kids!” Donald shouted, barely comprehensible.

“Oh come on Donnie, I managed to hold out for five months! _Five_ _months_! I think I deserve some credit!”

“That doesn’t matter! You. _Swore_. In front of the _children_.”

“Scrooge does so all the time!”

“‘Curse me kilts’ and ‘Bless me bagpipes’ hardly count as swears.” Donald scoffed.

“Language.” Scrooge’s reprimand went completely unnoticed.

“Oh, so you’ve _never_ cussed in front of the boys, huh? Cuz if I recall correctly, _you’re_ the sailor of the family, not me.”

“I-” Donald’s eyes flitted away for a second, “Of course I haven’t!”

Della narrowed her eyes, not believing her brother. “You totally cussed up a storm when they were babies, didn’t you?”

Donald huffed. “Maybe. Look, it doesn’t matter, I stopped before they could understand them!”

“...their first words were swears, weren’t they.”

Donald quacked in surprise. “What? No! They weren’t!” He quickly stated, still looking shifty.

“Ah. So only one of them then?” Della asked.

Donald’s lack of a response was all the answer she needed.

“...Louie?” She guessed.

“How did- but that’s- look,” He flapped wildly. “It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t anything bad!”

“Woah, I’ve cussed before?” Louie asked. “Cool.”

“Uh huh.” Della leveled a skeptical look at her brother. “You hypocrite.”

“Does this mean we can swear now!?” Dewey asked, bouncing on his toes.

“ _NO_.” Donald said forcefully, before Della had a chance to say anything.

“Um, guys?” Huey said.

“Really Donnie? You’re gonna be a wuss about this?”

“I don’t want to hear that type of language from them, and you shouldn’t either!”

“Guys.” Webby said, a bit more forcefully than Huey.

“Fer the record, Ah think it’s fine.” Scrooge said.

“No one asked you!” Donald replied.

“Guys!” Dewey yelled, still not getting a response.

“Whoever said I wanted to hear them swear!? Just cuz I can’t fucking help it doesn’t mean I’m oh so eager to let them swear out their asses!”

“Watch the language, Della!”

“ _Hey assholes!_ ” Louie swore.

“Language!!” All three adults yelled, finally turning to look at him.

“Wonderful.” Louie said. “Now that we have your attention...” he pointed towards the statues on the wall, which, unfortunately, were no longer statues. They had become warriors, each with a glowing elemental weapon. “Called it, by the way.”

The ducks sighed. “Wait, this could be good!” Webby supplied helpfully. “ _‘Best one of each to open the door’_ , right? So defeating these elemental warriors might be exactly what we need to do to progress!”

“Eh, worth a try,” Scrooge shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not like we have much of a choice,” Dewey said.

“We could always run,” Louie tried, sizing up the elemental guardians and not liking his odds.

“Well, we’re trapped in here, so we really couldn’t.” Huey countered.

“Not with that attitude we can’t.” Louie said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

As they got into combat stances, Della sidled up to Donald. “Hey,” she whispered.

“What?” Donald asked, looking wary.

“His first word was totally cunt, wasn’t it?”

“Della!!”

She smirked. “Called it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, they defeated the guardians and, surprisingly, the doorway opened into a treasure room. They all went in, the previous spat completely forgotten. 
> 
> Yeah, Della was alone for 10 years, she totally swears a blue streak now.


	3. Starving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Della continues to get used to life back home, she seems to be forgetting something rather important to her personal health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Della wielded together two pieces of metal, the flame from her blowtorch the only light in her room. If you asked her what she was building, she would have told you that it was a secret. In truth, she honestly had no idea. She’d started this project...earlier, (mainly just to give her hands something to do for a bit,) and had been hoping that it would come together after a bit of tinkering.

Well...hm. Maybe it had? Della stopped wielding for a second, and was immediately plunged into total darkness. She fumbled around for a few seconds for the lava lamp Lena had gotten her, and a soft blue glow slowly overtook the room as she turned it on.

Having succeeded in her task, Della turned her attention back to the doohickey she had in her hand. So far, it was some sort of piston-thingy encased in metal, which was activated by pressure applied to a button she had cleverly made out of the side of her trash can (she didn’t need a trash can, that’s what her room floor was for!).

She pressed the button a few times, watching the piston shoot up and slowly reset. It was mesmerizing, in it’s own way. Maybe it could be a hypnotizing doo-dad? Nah, it wasn’t really hypnotic enough, plus it was too cumbersome. Yeah, Gyro would probably have a conniption fit if she tried to turn it into a hypnotizer.

...Y’know, maybe that reason alone would be enough reason to turn it into a hypnotizer. She’d have think more about it in the morning. Speaking of which, what time was it, anyways? Della was sure she had an clock around her room somewhere.

She turned from her desk to search for wherever that stupid thing had gotten off to when her room was suddenly flooded with light. “Dells, are you gonna-“

“Hssss!” Della shielded her eyes from the light and turned away rapidly, falling off her chair in the process. “Oof!”

“...Did you just hiss at me?” Donald asked, befuddled.

“No, I was hissing at the light.” Della defended her actions, brushing herself off as she stood up.

“...Is that supposed to be better?”

Della stuck her tongue out at Donald, still wincing at the hallway light. “Why are you barging into my room? I’m kind of in the middle of something.” She asked, ignoring Donald’s question.

“I wanted to know if you were going to join us for breakfast.”

“...I mean, I probably will, why?” Della asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“Because breakfast started about eight minutes ago.”

“ _What_?! Why would you start breakfast now ? It’s-“ Della looked for her clock for a second longer before turning to Donald “It’s, uhhh. What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock.” Donald supplied.

“Woah, jeez, it’s ten already?” Last she’d checked, it had been about midnight. Della gave a peek outside her blackout curtains, and sure enough, it was real bright out. She winced and drew the curtains back quickly. “Huh. Who knew?”

“You going to join us or not?” Donald asked.

Della looked back towards her unfinished project. “...probably not, no. I’m working on something right now, and if I pause it I’ll probably never get back to it, Y’know?” She asked. “Plus, I ain’t really that hungry right now.” She added as an afterthought.

Donald studied her for a moment before responding. “Okay,” He frowned, “but I don’t think I’ve seen you eat for a little while now. You sure you’re not hungry?”

Della glared at her brother, getting annoyed by his attempts at mothering her. “Of course you haven’t seen me eat anything recently, you’ve been asleep for twelve hours.”

Donald leveled her an equally unimpressed look. “You know what I mean. Did you actually eat anything yesterday?”

Della gave it some thought for a second. She totally had! ...or maybe that had been two days ago? “Of course I did,” She answered anyway.

Donald stared at her for a moment before responding “Alright,” He said finally, “but you’re sure you aren’t hungry?”

“Donald. Chill.”

“Alright, alright, fine.” Donald acquiesced as he backed out of the room, leaving the door open.

Della grumbled as she stalked over to the door. “And close the door next time, ya big palooka!” She yelled as she shut the door, plunging her room back into the comforting blue glow of her lava lamp. Della flopped back onto her chair and swiveled towards her workbench: she had a hypno-gizmo to make!

———0———

“Legends of LegendQuest!” The voices of Della and Huey rang out from the TV room as they shouted identical cries of excitement, both eagerly gripping their controllers as the game finished loading. The excitement died down a little as they appeared in the spot they had been last: Huey’s farm. Well, what remained of it, at least.

“Yeesh, that beholder really did a number on this place, huh?” Della rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She felt a little guilty: the beholder had really only attacked the farm because of her, which meant that she was kinda responsible for destroying something one of her kids loved.

Della shook her head. Enough with the pity talk (pity thoughts?). What happened happened, and there wasn’t anything she could do to change that. All she could do was make the aftermath better.

Huey sighed. “Yeah, it really did.” He went into the middle of the garden and sifted his hand through some of the dust.

Della looked at her son with pity in her eyes. “A moment of silence, perhaps?” She suggested.

Together they stood, taking in the charred remains of Huey’s farm, in silence. At least, until they were interrupted by the growl of a stomach.

“Uh, heh. I guess the sight of a farm makes one hungry?” Della tried to defend the noise that her stomach made.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” Huey asked.

“Nah, we’re playing a game right now.”

Huey looked at her with suspicion. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Uh,” Della faltered, “I had a glass of milk?” She tried.

“...That hardly counts as a breakfast, mom.”

“Oh, sure it counts! It’s just-wait. Why am I defending myself? I’m your mom, you’re not supposed to worry about whether or not _I_ ate, it’s supposed to be the other way around! So what about _you_ , huh? Did _you_ eat breakfast Huey?”

“Yeah, we had pancakes.”

“Aw shoot, now I want pancakes.” Della grumbled.

“We might have some leftover, if you want any.”

Della gave it some thought. Pancakes sounded nice, but she _was_ in the middle of a game at the moment. “...Eh, I’ll wait until we’re done playing.” Her stomach growled, letting her know it’s displeasure. She ignored it.

“Are you sure?” Huey looked concerned. “We could always play a bit later.”

“And be forced to wait for it to load _again_? No way. I mean, I love Legends of LegendQuest, but it’s load times are just -whew!” Della made a winded expression at that. “Besides, I wanted to show you some of the more adventurous parts of this game, now that your farms been destroyed-er, I mean, uh- ...sorry.” She finished lamely.

Huey huffed. “It’s fine. I guess we can play, but you’ll eat something right after we’re done, right?”

Yeeeeeesh, Hue, _alright_!” Dell acquiesced. “Jeez, it’s like my mother’s back from the grave!” She said as she pulled Huey in for a noogie. Huey laughed and quickly detangled himself from her arms, righting his cap when he got away.

After that brief escapade, they got right into playing, barely taking any time at all before becoming fully immersed in the game.

———

“Whew!” Della exhaled, touching the save point and depositing the xp she’d earned that day. It had been pretty eventful digital adventure, all things considered. She’d forgotten that Huey had leveled up a bunch last time, and was now this uber-powerful godling of a character. (Though to be fair, Huey had forgotten as well.) As such, they’d been thrown at enemies far tougher than either of them had expected, and they’d been left scrambling for a foothold. Of course -what with Huey being a godling, after all- once they’d gotten their bearings, they’d absolutely wiped the floor with everything they came across. They had even managed to get some treasure at the end, which was always a nice treat.

“This is great!” Huey exclaimed, beaming. “The loot I got is more than enough to repair my farm!”

“Aw, Huey, the adventure was fun too, right?” Della tried. “I mean, come on, that hydra boss was totally epic!”

Huey held his mother’s gaze for a few seconds before smiling sheepishly “Yeah, okay, the adventuring was fun too.” He admitted.

“Alright! I knew I’d get ya hooked!” Della gave Huey a celebratory hug.

“Okay, okay,” Huey laughed, detangling himself from her hug. He stretched, looking at his watch. “This was great, but I think we should be done. We’ve been playing for a while.”

“Have we?” Della looked at the clock above the TV, but couldn’t really register what time it was. It wasn’t that she couldn’t read the clock (though that was kind of difficult, she always found digital easier than analog), but her brain just couldn’t seem to comprehend the passage of time.

How _fun_.

“Yeah, about 3 hours by now.” Huey’s voice brought her back to the present (Whenever that was).

“Huh, well how about that.” Della said, refocusing on the here and now. “Alright, guess you’re right. Farewell, Legends of LegendQuest, until next time.”

“Until next time,” Huey said as he jumped off the couch. Della stood up as well, stumbling a little as she went a lightheaded. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, just stood up to fast,” Della waved him off as the feeling passed.

As she went to leave, Huey called out to her. “Remember, you said you’d eat something!”

Della managed to repress the groan that threatened to come out of her beak, but just barely. Instead, she rolled her eyes and shot Huey a bemused glare. “Alright, kiddo. Now stop worrying about me! Go bother your brothers or something.”

Huey grinned at her as he went off upstairs, presumably to do exactly as she said. Della, in turn, went to the kitchen. She wasn’t really feeling very hungry anymore, but she should probably still eat something, right? She remembered that she had wanted pancakes, but now they didn’t sound as appealing; she wanted something quick that she didn’t have to make.

Hmm. What else could she have? Della rummaged around the pantry for a hot second, looking for something that wouldn’t take too long. She groaned in despair when her search failed to reveal any chips or crackers, the well known pinnacle of good -yet quick- food.

Maybe she could have some cheese? Della opened the fridge, but the only cheese she could find was the shredded kind. Hmm. She wasn’t feeling that desperate. So that was a no on cheese then.

Della turned around, scanning the countertop for something. Maybe a banana? Della didn’t really feel like a banana, though. Which made sense, seeing as how she was a duck, not a fruit. She giggled to herself. Anyways, all the bananas had brown spots on them, which meant that they were to gross to eat. Sure, Donald might call her a baby for not eating one, but Donald wasn’t here, was he?

Della looked around, opening the fridge again before heading back to the pantry. They had bread, maybe she could have toast? But that would require toasting the bread, and buttering the toast, and putting seasonings on the toast (because just buttered toast was kinda boring), and that just felt like too much work.

Della sighed. They had nothing! Mrs. Beakley really needed to go shopping soon. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t help with eating right now.

She went back to the fridge.

They had milk, she _could_ have cereal.

...Eh. Even cereal seemed like too much work. ( _Wow, lazy much?_ Della thought.)

In the end, Della grabbed a cup and poured herself a glass of milk. At least it was better than nothing, right?

————0————

Della stretched her arms as she surveyed the woodland area she had landed the Cloudslayer in. The trees were pretty tall, she was lucky to have found such a nice landing area. She took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, and let it out; she would never get tired of doing that. And the forest air? Perfection. All in all, this was a pretty nice set of woods, at least for her track record. A solid 8 out of 10, if you asked her.

She did a quick headcount as her family spilled out of the plane behind her. Her kids, her brother, and her uncle walked out , taking in their surroundings as she did (Launchpad, her co-pilot/apprentice, was staying inside the plane). “Okay, so; recap?” Louie requested.

Huey shot him a deadpan look that seriously reminded Della of the looks Donald would give her when she said something he found particularly stupid. “I gave you the whole rundown on the way over. How could you _possibly_ need a recap.” He said with a tired tone that spoke of many times like this.

Louie held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I never said _I_ needed one! I just thought it might be helpful for the people who didn’t listen!”

Huey’s deadpan glare didn’t waver. “And by ‘people who didn’t listen’, you mean you, don’t you?”

“...Okay in my defense,” Louie said, “You have a really boring voice.”

“Louie,” Donald began warningly.

“What? It’s true!” Louie looked to Dewey. “Did you pick up anything he said?”

“Yeah, no, I kinda spaced out after the whole ‘eightieth descendant’ thing, and didn’t really make an effort to space back in.” Dewey scratched his head. “He’s kind of right dude, you talked for like, the whole plane ride. It’s kinda difficult to pay attention for that long.”

Huey sighed and hung his head. “Aw, don’t listen to them Huey!” Della jumped in to try and cheer her kid up. “You did a great job!”

Huey looked at her with an already defeated look on his face. “You don’t remember anything either, do you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Della grimaced as her (admittedly not very well thought out) plan crumbled around her. “In my defense, I was flying the plane?” She tried.

“Don’t worry Huey, _I_ remember what you said.” Webby chimed in.

“ _Thank_ you, Webby.” Huey said. “At least _someone_ here listens to me.”

“Alright, cool, could we get that recap now please?” Louie asked. “And just like, the CliffsNotes version this time, if you could.”

Huey let out a long-suffering sigh. “You want CliffsNotes? Fine. This forest has a magical rose-like gem that we’re going and retrieving. Happy?”

“Yes!” Louie said. “See? You got the point across all in one breath! Now isn’t that much more efficient?”

“But you don’t even know what the forest is called!” Huey exclaimed, anger clear on his face. “Or the rose! You don’t know how to get the rose, how to navigate the forest, or what an eightieth descendant has to do with any of it!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure I’ll figure that all out as we go along.” Louie rolled his eyes.

As Huey stepped forward to strangle Louie, Scrooge stepped in. “Alright lad, settle down, donnae kill someone ye might need later.”

Louie looked offended. “Is that all I am to you?”

Scrooge ignored him. “Now, how about we get going already? I donnae think we want to stick around for too long.”

Huey sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Wouldn’t want the Booglebondo to find us like this.”

“Wait, the what?” Louie asked.

Huey gave him a smug look. “If you’d been paying attention, you’d already know.”

Louie narrowed his eyes. “You’re just bluffing. You’re just trying to scare me with some fake monster.”

Huey got right into Louie’s face. “Maybe I am. But I guess you’ll never know, will you?” With that, Huey walked past him, whistling.

Louie looked concerned. “He was just bluffing, right?”

Webby and Scrooge walked past, and Della just shrugged. “I mean, I don’t _think_ I’ve ever heard of a Booglebondo before.”

“You don’t _think_ you’ve heard of one? What does _that_ mean?”

“It means we’ve faced a lot of monsters before, and not all of them conveniently shout their name.” Donald supplied as he followed after them, Dewey in tow. Louie sighed in defeat and followed.

Della wasn’t worried. She was _pretty_ sure there wasn’t such a thing as a Booglebondo, and even if their was? Her family could definitely take care of it.

She followed after her family, taking in the forest as she did so. She really had forgotten what it was like, to walk through trees, little rays of sunlight breaking through the canopy to say hello occasionally. It was absolutely beautiful.

As she was taking in a particularly spectacular sun ray, she felt a lightheaded feeling start creeping up on her. She stopped and shook her head, dismissing it quickly. “Geh. Stop it.” She muttered.

“What?” Donald asked.

“Huh?” Della replied eloquently.

“Did you say something?”

“No, I was just talking to myself.” Della said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen stuff like this, y’know?

Donald hummed in response as Della caught up with the everyone else. “Really? I kinda figured that you’d gone on a few adventures with the kids while I was gone.”

“Well yeah,” Della replied, “but I mean, I was a little busy looking at my kids to take in the scenery.”

“Fair enough.”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t really go on some of the adventures I’d wanted to go on, cuz apparently they’d already gone on them!”

“Really? Where were you hoping to take them?” Donald asked.

“Well, Atlantis, for one.” Della said.

“Oh yeah, Atlantis! That was their first adventure, y’know?”

“They told me! Well, I think they did. Honestly, they were all talking at the same time, it was kinda difficult to keep up.”

“Yeah, they get like that sometimes.” Donald chuckled. “Honestly, it reminds me of their first class field trip. It’d been to the zoo, if I recall, and when they got back they would not stop talking! Seriously, it w _a sl i k e th_

_ey ‘_

_d b_

_e_

__

_e_

_n_

  
  


————0————

  
  


_One foot in front of the other. An endless march in a grey, skyless desert, searching for something that does not exist. Movement without cause, existence without sustenance. The taste of blood and black licorice, mixed together, spurs the movement forward._

_One foot in front of the other._

_One foot. In front. Of the other._

  
  


————0————

  
  


The first thing Della realized was that she was lying down. The second thing she realized was that her eyes were closed. When had she closed her eyes? She opened them.

Ouch ow-ow-ow-ow, nope-nope-nope, bright-white-room, lots-of-light, nope. Della quickly closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she decided to brave the light, and carefully took her time squinting and blinking to adjust.

It was a... a hospital room? How did she get here? When has that happened? Suddenly, Della gasped and flew upright, startling someone who was resting on her bed, but that wasn’t important. What was important were the legs that were covered up by the sheet. She threw the sheet back, fearing the worst, before sighing in relief when she saw that she still had her legs, both the metal and organic one.

As she did so, Della noticed an IV tube stuck in her arm. She went to rip it out before her hand was rapped by a cane. “Knock it off lass! Ye know damn well that that’s supposed tae stay in there!”

“Uncle Scrooge! What happened? Is everyone okay? Was it the Booglebondo? Where are my kids?” Della asked, getting increasingly agitated as she asked each question.

“Everyone’s fine lass!” Scrooge raised his hand. “Calm down.”

“What about the Booglebondo?”

“There is no such thing as a Booglebondo, Della.” Scrooge sighed.

“Hah! I knew it!” Della pumped her (non-IV’d) fist in the air. “Then what happened? Why am I in a hospital bed?”

“Actually, lass, that’s somethin’ Ah wanted tae ask you.” Scrooge got up from his chair next to her bed and started pacing. “According to Donald, ye just fainted.”

“Just fainted? Right out of the blue, like an edgy 8-year-old playing make-believe?” She asked. Scrooge nodded his head and Della groaned. “Well that’s perfect.”

“Aye. Well, we rushed ye to the hospital, and do ye want tae know what the doctor said the cause was?”

Della hesitated. “By the sound of your voice I don’t really think I do.”

Scrooge pressed on anyway. “She said it was malnutrition. She said it was because ye hadn’t been eatin’ enough. Now tell me lass,” Scrooge said, “when did ye last eat?”

“Um.” Della shifted under the gaze her uncle was trapping her in. “What day is it?”

“Della, ye cannae be serious.” Scrooge said, seemingly taking that as enough of an answer.

“I don’t know!” Della exclaimed. “It was like, a day ago! ...Or maybe two. ...Or maybe a week?”

If Della didn’t know any better, she’d say that Scrooge looked almost scared. “Della!!” He cried out. “ _Why?_ ”

“I don’t know, I-I guess I just don’t really think about it much, and then I just -I don’t know- do something else?” Della defended. “I don’t really think about it.”

Scrooge sat back down in his chair, silent, not looking at her.

“...how did the rest of the adventure go?” Della asked lamely.

Scrooge scoffed. “We called it off after ye passed out.”

“Oh.” Della said, ashamed. “...Sorry.”

Scrooge looked at her incredulously. “Yer sorry? Yer _sorry?!_ For an _adventure?!_ Ah donnae give a shit about all that! Adventures can be rescheduled, hell, we can reschedule that one!” Scrooge was furious now, standing back up and pacing again. “What Ae give a shit about is that my d- my niece is starvin’ herself!”

“I’m not _starving_ myself!” Della exclaimed. “At least, not intentionally!”

“Then why?” Scrooge asked, a defeated look on his face. “Why aren’t ye eatin’ anything?”

“I-” Della sighed. “I told you, I just kinda forget. It’s like- I spent ten years surviving on nothing but gum, I guess I forgot that food was a necessary part of survival and not just, I don’t know, something people did for fun.”

Scrooge deflated, sitting back down in his chair. It was silent of almost a minute before Scrooge looked back up at Della. “Alright. New rules: ye have tae join the family for breakfast an’ dinner, and if three people cannae confirm that ye had lunch, then you dinnae have lunch, got it? No more skipping meals.”

Della sighed. “Yes Uncle Scrooge.” She replied dutifully. “Well, I’m awake now, when can I get out of here?”

Scrooge smirked. “When that,” he pointed his cane to the IV, “Is empty.”

Della looked outraged at that. “Oh come on! You know IV’s take for-fucking-ever! That’s unfair!”

“Well ye should have thought about that before ye started skipping meals.”

Della grumbled. “Where are the others?” She asked.

“Well, the kids are gettin’ some snacks, they’ll be back soon, and Donald went home.” Scrooge sighed. “I should go call him, tell him yer up. I’ll send the kids in.” Della gave him a thumbs up as he left.

So. She’d accidentally been starving herself. That... probably wasn’t great. At least now she probably wouldn’t do that anymore, what with the strict rules in place. Yeah, if she knew Mrs. Beakley, there was no way she’d ever get the chance to skip meals or eat in peace again.

Soon, Della’s door was opened and four kids came spilling forth onto her bed. “Hey kiddos- _ooph_!” She said as they all clambered up onto her stomach. “Hey, so. I’ve got a proposition for you: I’ll give you 20 bucks if you exchange that full IV bag with an empty one. Eh? What do ya think?”

Louie began reaching for the IV before Huey smacked his hand away rather forcefully. “Ow!” Louie cried out. “What the heck man?”

“Mom needs those nutrients, Louie!” Huey said.

“20 bucks, dude!”

Oh dear, Huey looked close to tears. “Hey, it’s alright Hue, I was just joking.”

“Well it was a crappy joke!” Huey’s voice broke and he shoved his face into her chest. Della immediately felt horrible for, like, everything.

“Hey hey hey, it’s alright Huey, it’s alright.” Della soothed, rubbing his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was mean.” Huey just sniffled in response.

“Why haven’t you been eating anything?”Dewey asked, positioning himself better on the bed (and on her lap).

Della sighed. “I didn’t _mean_ not to, I just forgot about it. Like, sure, I’d get hungry from time to time, but then something else would happen and I’d get distracted and then the hungry feeling would pass and I’d forget all about eating. But that’s gonna change! From now on, I always gotta eat breakfast and dinner with the whole family, and somebody’s gotta make sure I eat lunch as well.”

“Okay,” Dewey said, nodding. “That’s good.”

“Yeah! And don’t worry Della, I’ll make sure that you eat lunch!” Webby added (Della was pretty sure she didn’t mean to make it sound as ominous as it did, right?).

“Alright, cool, so if she’s gonna eat, can I empty the bag for twenty bucks now?” Louie asked.

Huey turned to glare at him. “So you’re just gonna act like you weren’t freaking out almost as badly as Donald on the plane ride back? And that you weren’t balling your eyes out on our way here?”

Louie punched his brother and pulled his hood over his face. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

As her children bickered on her lap/hospital bed, Della smiled. She might not be as well adjusted to life on the ground as she’d hoped, but for her family? She’d get there, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Della spent a little longer in the hospital before she could leave, and her family was very steadfast in making sure she ate.
> 
> So some of the promised angst has finally arrived! I think that she might have some trouble with eating after having spent ten years unlearning such a thing. And I added in some extra angst besides not eating. Y’know, for flavor.
> 
> Don’t worry, we’ll be getting some fluff and humor after this one.


	4. Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenton has a good day.

Fenton was having a good day. His side projects in the lab were coming along great, he’d only had to deal with one weather-based villain today, and the coffee machine was actually working! Heck, even _Gyro_ was in a good mood, as far as Fenton could tell.

His boss/co-worker/lab assistant/friend?/crush ( _nope-nope-nope not thinking about that, not at all No Siree Bob no thank you_ ) had been humming a little tune to himself all day, and even seemed to have the ghost of a smile gracing his beak.   
He was probably happy the coffee machine was working, if Fenton had to guess. He quickly thanked the coffee machine gods for letting it work, before turning back to his project (a new upgrade for the gizmosuit).

As soon as he did so, a small red light above the doorway to the lab pinged to life. It was an ingenious little invention they called the Sensor-System: it was a sensor that Gyro had installed, which let them know when someone in the elevator chose to go down to the underwater lab. Real helpful for letting them know to hide any visible pieces of the Gizmoduck armor, or helping them avoid any angry investors.

“Go check that out, would you?” Gyro ordered, barely looking up from his repairs to Lil’ Bulb. Man, he really was in a good mood today, wasn’t he? He’d even added a ‘would you’ to the end of his sentence!

“Yes sir Doctor Gearloose sir!” Fenton saluted, chucking the gizmosuit upgrade into one of his desk drawers before heading off to see who was coming to visit the lab. He could only hope it wasn’t one of the buzzards, they kind of sucked. At least Mr. McDuck generally enjoyed their inventions, no matter how bizarre. The buzzards were just—well, buzzkills.

Fenton stopped at a metal wall with a small window that blocked the rest of the elevator from the rest of the hallway. The wall was actually another part of the Sensor-System: it would slide down from the ceiling when the elevator was sent, blocking entrance to the lab until a button on the lab side of things was pressed, which was _real_ handy for angry investors. It tended to annoy Mr. McDuck, though.

After about a minute, Fenton heard the elevator arrive and saw someone step out. It wasn’t one of the buzzards (which was a relief), or Mr. McDuck, either. It was a strange looking woman wearing a bomber jacket, and aviator goggles on her forehead. She also had a metal leg, which immediately piqued Fenton’s interest. Had she made it? What types of metal did she use? How did she get the joint to move when she wanted it too? Were there any electronics? What about hidden functions, like a knife or rocket thruster? Fenton would totally have added a rocket thruster.

The woman stepped up to the wall, giving it a bemused look. She caught Fenton’s eye and waved. She also looked like she was saying something, but the wall didn’t allow sound to pass through, so Fenton couldn’t hear her.

Fenton turned on the intercom system they had also implemented when they made the Sensor-System. “Hello ma’am, welcome to the Underwater Lab! Can I help you?”

“Sup!” The woman replied. “Does a Gyro Gearloose work there?”

“Hmm, nope! Can’t say that he does. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever even heard the name Gyro Gearloose before!” Fenton said. Gyro had drilled it into his head since day one that, if anyone came down to the lab looking for him, Fenton was to play dumb and act like Gyro didn’t even exist.

The woman just raised an eyebrow. “He told you to say that, didn’t he?”

Ah. Shit. “Whaaaaaaaat? I have no idea what you’re talking about, hah-hah!” Fenton chuckled nervously. “Welp, if that’s all miss, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Have a nice day, goodbye!”

The mystery woman did not leave. Instead, she just chuckled. “Alright buddy, you can cut the shit now. I’m an old friend of Gyro’s, and I wanna give him something. So if you could just, y’know, get this gate thing outta the way, that’d be great. Thanks!” She grinned.

Fenton was very suspicious of this woman’s claims. Gyro didn’t have any friends! “Sorry ma’am, no can do. Can’t let just anyone into the lab, after all! I do hope you understand.”

The woman sighed. “Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that.” She then pulled a wrench out of her coat and began to do... something, to her side of the wall.

“Um, Ma’am? I’m, uh, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop!” Fenton said, his voice climbing a bit higher than he’d anticipated. This woman was seriously freaking Fenton out.

She grinned up at Fenton. “Nope,” She said in the most heartwarming tone possible. She then frowned at the wall, and threw her wrench away. “Oh, fuck it,” she said. He then heard the creaking and screeching of metal, and suddenly the wall was pushed up about halfway.

Fenton let out an undignified yelp as the woman ducked under the gap, wiping her hands as she did so. “Whew,” she exhaled, “that was heavier than I thought it would be! What did you build it out of, steel?”

“T-titanium,” Fenton answered on autopilot.

“Hm.” The woman nodded approvingly. “That’s a pretty good metal. I think. I’ll be perfectly honest, I’m not really an expert on metals.” She looked the wall up and down as if examining it. “Welp, I’m gonna go see Gyro now, talk to ya later!”

As the woman walked past him, Fenton’s instincts kicked his body into motion. “W-wait!” Fenton ran in front of the scary woman, arms outstretched. “I can’t let you do that! It’s against company policy, you see, and-”

The woman didn’t even spare him a second glance, she just picked him up like he weighed nothing and set him down behind her. “Come on buddy, don’t worry so much! It’s not like I’m gonna do anything bad! Now just sit sit right there and don’t move, okay?” She left without waiting for a response.

Fenton just sat there, as she’d asked, his brain trying to catch up with everything he’d just seen. That woman had lifted a metal wall/doorway that had to weigh at _least_ 600 pounds, and then manhandled him with a scary ease. She wasn’t human. She had to be some sort of cyborg or something.

“Who was it Fent- what the f-” He heard Gyro start before-

-POW!

“THAT’S FOR BLACK _FUCKING_ LICORICE YOU _PRICK_!!!!” He heard the woman scream before the sound of glass shattering shook him out of his stupor. Fenton rushed back to the lab, already dreading the worst.

The sight that awaited him at the lab was... jarring, to say the least. Gyro was on the floor in the fetal position, there was a fair amount of water on the floor as well, and Manny was standing at one of the windows, which had the emergency shutters drawn. The scary cyborg-lady was nowhere it sight.

Fenton was no longer having a good day.

————0————

Scrooge was having a good day. Said good day was ruined when his phone rang. He really hoped it wasn’t the buzzards. If it was one of them he’d just let it go to voicemail. One look at the number proved that it wasn’t the buzzards, though it might be worse.

It was the lab number, and the only time they ever called him was to let him know that one of their inventions had gone haywire, destroyed a bunch of stuff, and was heading his way. They never called him when it started going haywire, oh no, they just always _had_ to try and fix it themselves. He answered the phone anyway.

“Mr. McDuck!” Sounded a very distressed employee of his. What was his name again? Caballero? Crackpot?

“Alright, what ‘wee misunderstood beastie’ is headin’ my way today, Crackhead?” Scrooge said, sounding utterly bored.

“I. It-it’s Crackshell,” Fenton mumbled.

“Right. So Crackegg, why are ye callin’ me?”

“I- well, sir, you see-“

“Oh fer heaven’s sake lad, quit yer mumblin’ and spit it out already!” Scrooge said impatiently.

“We had a break-in sir!”

Scrooge raised an eyebrow. “A break-in? Havnae had one of those in a while. Alright, what did Glomgold steal this time?”

“Oh, nothing was stolen, sir.” Fenton said. “And Glomgold wasn’t behind this either. At least, I don’t think he was.”

Scrooge sighed and rubbed his temples. “What happened then?” He asked simply.

“Well, you see sir, a strange woman came down to the lab and asked to see Gyro. I told her that he wasn’t in -because Gyro’s policy about strange people coming to see him is to pretend that he doesn’t exist- but she seemed to know I was lying. So she lifted the wall, went into the lab and assaulted Gyro, all while yelling something about black licorice? Then she bust out the window of the lab and swam for shore.”

Scrooge thumped his head on his desk: he could very easily guess who the assailant was.

“I believe that she might be a cyborg, sir: she was extremely strong, she had a metal leg, and hated Gyro for some reason. I wanted to know if you thought I should give chase now, or if I should do so after I’ve cleaned up.” Fenton asked.

Scrooge sighed. “Just clean up fer now, donnae worry about it.”

“Okay, so chase after the killer cyborg-lady later then?”

“No, Ah mean donnae worry about it. Ah’ve got it handled.” Scrooge said a bit more forcefully.

“Oh! Of course sir. I’ll just, ah, make sure Gyro’s alright.”

“You go do that.”

“...Um, sir? I think he’s crying.”

Scrooge sighed again. He had a feeling he was going to be doing so a lot today. “Not my problem.” He hung up, took a moment to soak in what could very well be the last piece of bit and quiet he would get for the day, and dialed a new number.

The phone rang...

rang...

rang...

And went to voicemail. Scrooge could feel a headache coming on already. “Ye press the green button when ye want tae talk, lass. Ah’m goin’ tae call again now. Remember: _green button_.” He dialed the number again and this time the phone was picked up almost immediately.

“I didn’t answer because I was a little busy swimming, Uncle Scrooge,” his niece replied. “You didn’t have to get all _condescending_ about it.”

“Mhm,” Scrooge hummed, a slight smile crossing his face (despite everything). “So Ah hear ye visited Gyro today.”

“Oh yeah!” Della said excitedly. “It was fun! I went swimming for the first time in ages! I almost drowned!”

“How exciting.” Scrooge replied dryly. “Did ye make it back tae shore alright?”

“Yep! I’m waving at you right now! Can you see me?”

Scrooge looked out his office window, and after a moment of scanning, saw a small white speck jumping up and down on the pier. “Aye, Ah can se ye.” He chuckled.

Della gasped suddenly. “Wait! I just went swimming and got my phone all wet! How is it still working?”

“It’s a waterproof phone Della, like the kids have. Ah got them fer adventures and such.” Never mind that Donald was the one who convinced him to splurge on such expensive things, stating that ‘communication with the kids’ was the most important thing to have happen. As if that had ever been a problem with the twins.

“Wait, it’s waterproof? Seriously?” Scrooge heard a swoosh and a splash a second later. He smacked his forehead.

Scrooge took the time to check his watch: it wasn’t even noon yet and already he was tired. “Maybe next time donnae throw yer phone into the ocean tae check if it’s waterproof, aye?” He said after he was fairly certain she’d had enough time to get it back.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I thought about that as soon as it left my hand, alright?” Della returned snappishly.

Scrooge laughed at that. He truly had missed his niece’s mannerisms. Though Fenton ( _Fenton! That was his name! Still couldn’t remember his last name, though_ ) probably didn’t find them as amusing. “Ye know, Ah think ye may have given Fenton a heart attack.”

“Fenton? Is he that hero-esque duck down in the labs as well? Real nice hair?”

“Aye, that’d be the one.”

“Huh. He seemed nice enough.” Della paused for a moment. “Hey, you know if he and Gyro are dating?”

“Ah donnae pry into my employees love lives, Della.”

“...Really? You don’t? _You?_ ” She asked suspiciously.

“Of course Ah don’t! Ah’m not some gossip bug, ye ken?” Scrooge was met with silence. “Donnae roll yer eyes at me, lass.”

“What? I totally wasn’t!”

“Mmhm,” Scrooge hummed, unconvinced.

“....Okay, maybe I was, whatever!” Della acquiesced “You got lucky!”

Scrooge grinned. “Ah donnae believe in luck, lass.” More silence. “And pull yer tongue back in, you’ll catch flies.”

“How!? How do you always know!?” Della yelled.

Scrooge laughed. “You cannae pull a fast one on Scrooge McDuck, that’s why! It’s because Ah’m-“

“-tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties, yeah yeah yeah.” Della interrupted. “Like I haven’t heard _that_ a million times.”

Scrooge snorted. “No respect for yer elders these days.”

“Oh, you can still move around just fine, you don’t count as an elder.”

Speaking of moving around, “How did ye get to The Money Bin anyways?” He asked.

“I stowed away in the trunk of the limo when you left for work this morning.”

“Wh—Della!” Scrooge sputtered. “Ye could have just ridden in the back with me!”

“Well sure, but then you’d ask why I want to join you! And then I’d have to tell you all about my plans, and then you’d give me _The Look_ —y’know, the ‘I’m really disappointed in you’ look, and then I’d feel bad! Plus, I’ve got a ten year streak of not getting _The Look_ and I really don’t want to break that now.”

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “Just because ye havenae seen _The Look_ doesnae it hasn’t been given, lass.” He said.

“It totally does! In order for _The Look_ -honestly any look, really- to be a look, you’ve gotta be _looking_ at the person you’re giving the look to! Seriously Uncle Scrooge, this is common sense stuff!”

Scrooge let out a bemused sigh. He loved his niece, he really did, but she really didn’t think things through. How was she going to get home now? “Getting back on track, how were ye planning on getting home?” Scrooge asked.

Silence.

“...Della.” Scrooge admonished.

“Don’t give me that!” Della said. “It’s not like I got myself into an unsolvable situation! I’ll just ride with you when you go home.”

“The work day just started, Della. Ye sure ye want to wait that long? Ah could just send Launchpad tae get ye and take ye home now, if ye want.” Scrooge got a notification for an incoming call. He ignored it.

Della paused for a moment, considering. “Mmmm, nah. I’ll just wait in your office.”

Scrooge grinned. “Aw, like when ye were a wee little lass?”

Della groaned. “Is it too late to change my answer?”

Scrooge chuckled. The notification sounded again, and this time he looked at it. Again from the lab. He should probably take it. “Right, Ah’ve got another call comin’ in lass, Ah’ll call ye back.”

“Don’t bother,” Della said, “I’ll be up in the office in a jiffy. See you then!”

“See ye then.” Scrooge replied. He took a deep breath to prepare himselffor what was no doubt bad news of some kind, and accepted the call. “What do ye want now, Fenton?”

“Oh thank goodness, I finally reached you!” Fenton sounded relieved. “I’ve been trying for a few minutes now, but first I accidentally dialed a wrong number! Then I dialed again, but It didn’t go through, so I thought-”

“Lad.” Scrooge said. “If ye aren’t contacting me fer an immediate problem, I’m gonna deduct my next phone bill from yer pay, understand?”

“Right, sir! The thing is, Gyro threw up, and I think that he might have internal bleeding!” Fenton said, sounding, somehow, even more panicked that he had when he first called.

Scrooge dropped the phone and put his head in his hands. It wasn’t even noon yet. It wasn’t even noon yet!

It was at that moment that Della bust in through his door.

  
“She has arrived!” She announced to the world. Scrooge lifted his head to glare at her. “...okay, I _just_ entered the room, how have I _already_ earned the glare?”

“If Ae have tae pay out Gyro’s health insurance because ye ruptured his spleen, Ah’m not gonna be happy, Della.”

“Yo, I ruptured his spleen? That’s awesome!”  
  


Scrooge’s glare intensified.

“-ly bad. For him. That would be a horrible thing.” Della fixed her statement. “Hold the phone, is that a Newton’s Cradle?” She dashed over to his desk, all previous actions forgotten, to play with the clacky little ball toy.

Scrooge sighed. This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenton managed to pull himself together after a little bit and get Gyro to the hospital, where, it turns out, he did not get any serious internal injuries.   
> Della spent the rest of the day in Scrooge’s office, and after work they went out and got ice cream. Della ended up getting a brain freeze because she ate it all in practically one bite.


	5. The Screwloose, Pt. 1: The Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Della goes back to the lab to ‘make amends’ with Gyro, what will she be willing to take?  
> Not this, apparently.

Gyro placed a final Pep can on top of a pyramid of Pep cans, and quickly scurried back behind a blast shield. “Okay, test number 36 of the Gizmosuit’s cannon arm upgrade, commence. Intern, fire at will.” He said. “And _please_ make sure you’re actually aiming at the _cans_ this time.”

“Yes sir Doctor Gearloose!” Fenton responded. He lowered the arm cannon at the cans and made the neural connections necessary for it to fire. The sound of fans whirring signified large increase in energy output, and electricity built up at the tip of the cannon for almost a full second, before suddenly firing. 

The force of the knock-back sent Fenton flying back into the floor, which smarted.

Fenton coughed. “Did I hit the cans this time?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” Gyro said, making notes on his clipboard. “The blast vaporized most of the metal where it hit, and the cans that weren’t touched by the blast itself were still displaced by the resulting shockwave. Yes, I think this power level will work!”

“That’s wonderful Doctor Gearloose, but I feel like it’s a little counter-productive to have me blasted back by the force of it as well.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose that could be a problem.” Gyro mused. “Couldn’t you just get stronger or something?”

“I- Doctor Gearloose.” Fenton picked himself of the floor and glared at Gyro. “That’s hardly a good solution.”

Gyro rolled his eyes. “Well then what would you suggest, Intern?”

Fenton pondered the question for a moment. “Hmm. If we added exhaust ports to the back it might reduce some of the buildup.”

“Maybe,” Gyro frowned. “But it would also reduce the power of the blast itself.”

“Not if we added an inlay of mono-carbonate to the inside, which would-”

“-Let the electronic charge continue charging even while it releases pressure out the exhaust!” Gyro finished for Fenton. “We could also reverse the anomithium charge-“

“-To allow for intake reduction!” Fenton added. “Which, in turn, would let us add another layer of silicous phosphate-”

“-Which would energize the charge-”

“-Almost ten time the expected amount! Such a build would allow for expert precision-”

“-And insane firepower-”

“-The likes of which the Gizmoduck suit has never seen before!”

“All while being more efficient with it’s power usage than the last cannon upgrade! It’s genius!” Gyro exclaimed. He dropped his clipboard and grabbed Fenton’s shoulders. Fenton could immediately feel heat rising along his body. “This could really work, Fenton!”

“Yeah!” Fenton agreed, “Yeah, it really could.” He felt himself get closer to Gyro, not dropping his gaze. He could see the flecks of green in Gyro’s hazel eyes. Huh, had Gyro always had such warm brown eyes?

Fenton really wanted to kiss him. 

He felt himself lean in further, closing his eyes, and-

“Hey, your cool-ass wall-door isn’t working anymo- oh, is now a bad time?” Both Fenton and Gyro screamed and leapt back from each other like they’d been burned.

Fenton turned around to see who had interrupted him and let out another scream: that cyborg woman from a few weeks ago had invaded their lab again! He dived behind his desk post-haste. “It’s the cyborg! She’s back!” He yelled.

Gyro quickly grabbed a taser off his desk and pointed at her, one arm wrapped protectively around his stomach. “BACK, YOU FOUL SHE-DEVIL!!!” He screeched. “STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!!”

The woman simply looked unimpressed. “Seriously Gy? You should know by now that I ain’t afraid of a little shock.”

Gyro looked at the taser like he was just now realizing what he was holding, and tossed it aside. The strong-as-fuck lady flashed Fenton look. “This guy, am I right?”

Thankfully, Fenton was spared from trying to respond when he heard a cocking sound come from Gyro’s direction. “I reiterate: DON’T YOU MOVE A FUCKING STEP CLOSER YOU BITCH!!!”

“Gyro, whaaathAT IS A GUN! _That is an actual gun_ , Gyro!” Fenton exclaimed, watching as his boss pointed a _fucking_ _gun_ at the cyborg. How had he even gotten that in?

If possible, the woman managed to look even less impressed. “Do it, pussy. You won’t.” She put her hands in her pockets and stared down the barrel without flinching.

“Oooookay, how about we just calm down and lower our weapons, huh Gyro?” Fenton tried. “Probably not a good idea to try and shoot a cyborg, right?”

“Oh please, she’s not a _cyborg_.” Gyro scoffed, still keeping his weapon trained on her. “She’s a _McDuck_.” He spat, with venom coating his words.

“I- wh- That’s even _worse_ , Gyro!” Fenton panicked. “I _really_ don’t think it’s a good idea to shoot one of our bosses relatives!”

“Yeah Gy, listen to Fenton, put the gun down. I just wanna talk.”

“Oh, like you _‘just wanted to talk’_ last time?” Gyro said.

“Hey, I just thought of some new stuff I wanted to say.” The apparently-not-a-cyborg-woman raised her hands into the air.

“Oh really?” Gyro drawled. “Well that’s what happens when you leave so quickly; _you leave things unsaid_.”

“Ooh, that sounded like it had a double meaning.” She sneered. 

The McDuck scanned the lab, frowning after a moment. “Just checking, there was a horse with Scrooge’s head last time I was here, right? I wasn’t just seeing things?”

Gyro responded with “No, there’s no such thing, you must be absolutely crazy.”

At the same time that Fenton said “Oh, do you mean Manny?”

“Yeah, sure, Manny!” The girl immediately zeroed in on Fenton. “See, I knew I wasn’t seeing things! Where is he?”

“Oh, well, it’s Upgrade Day today, which is the day that Gyro and I test out new upgrades for the Gizm-uh,” He stuttered. “For fun! It can get pretty messy, so Manny and Lil Bulb usually take the day off.”

Gyro placed the gun back down on his desk. “If you aren’t here to cause violence, why are you here?” He asked the McDuck.

“As I said, now that everyone’s calmed down, I wanna talk to you about some stuff. Specifically;” The woman rummaged through her coat pockets and pulled out a stick of gum. “ _This_ shit.”

Gyro let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you _still_ on about this? Black licorice is a perfectly good flavor.”

“You shut your whore mouth Gearloose!” The woman exploded, waving the stick of gum at him. “Ten _fucking_ years of this shit! You couldn’t have made any other flavors??”

“Why would I, when black licorice is _clearly_ the best one?”

The woman looked incensed at that. Fenton slowly stood up and tried to get their attention. “Okay, what is going on here? Who are you?” He asked the woman, “Why are you talking about black licorice? What does Gyro have to do with any of this?”

Gyro sighed. “Okay.” He rubbed his temples. “Fenton, this is Della Duck, she’s Mr. McDuck’s niece. Della, this is Fenton, my intern-slash-co-worker.

“So, Della got lost in space about ten years ago. She’s only alive today because of Oxy-Chew -an invention that _I_ made- which was a gum that gave you oxygen and nutrients when you chewed it. And now that she’s -unfortunately- made it back home, she sees to complain about the invention which _saved her life_.”

Della laughed bitterly. “Yeah, okay, this fucker is leaving out some pretty important shit. What he isn’t telling you is that he had the bright idea of _flavoring_ the gum! Which, if you weren’t _Gyro Gearloose_ , wouldn’t be a bad idea. _Unfortunately_ , this sad sack of shit _is_ Gyro Gearloose, and he chose to make the gum taste like black _. Fucking._ Licorice.” If looks could kill, Gyro would be dead on the spot from the look that Della was giving him.

As it stood, Fenton felt like this whole thing was a bit of an overreaction. “I don’t mean to be rude,” He started, “but is that really that bad? I mean, once the gum lost it’s flavor, it’d be fine, right?”

“Oh you’d think!” Della said. “You’d think, but no! _No_ , this fucker, this _motherfucker_ , made the flavor last eternally! And he made the flavor black licorice! And that was the only thing I had to eat for ten _fucking_ years!”

“Oh.” Fenton blinked. “Okay, yeah, no, that’s pretty fucked up.”

“Thank you!” Della yelled in relief. “ _Finally_ , somebody actually gets it!”

“Oh please,” Gyro scoffed. “You would’ve hated any flavor after ten years.”

“Well not if you’d made more than one flavor!”

“You wouldn’t ever need more than one! The gum sticks will last for over a decade!”

“Then just make them flavorless!”

Gyro rolled his eyes. He grabbed a small gizmo off his desk and began fiddling with it. “Is this all you’ve come here for? To insult my tastes?”

“Oh no, that’s not all.” Della said. “But on the subject of insulting; the instruction manual.”

“What about it?” Gyro asked.

“Did you have to make it insult me every three sentences? Like, seriously: one of the only things keeping me connected with humanity, and it’s filled to the brim with personal insults against me!”

“You’re exaggerating!” Gyro defended. “It wasn’t ‘every three sentences’! I mean, sure, maybe I put in a _few_ side jabs, but not _that_ many!”

“Oh yes that many! Every other sentence called _me specifically_ an idiot, or stupid, or somehow intoned that I’m not all there in the head!”

“ _Really?_ ” Gyro placed the gizmo down and made a ‘give it’ gesture with his hand. “Then let’s see it: show me where it says these things.”

Della took on a slightly abashed look. “Well, I mean I would, but, uh, I don’t, exactly, have it. Anymore.”

Fenton could feel the temperature in the room drop. “What. Do you mean. You don’t have it anymore?” Gyro asked coldly.

“Well I had to give it to Lunaris so that the moonlanders could make their own ships.”

Gyro took off his glasses and rubbed his beak. “Why would you give it to Lunaris?” He demanded.

“He was kind to me!” Della defended. “How was I supposed to know that he was a xenophobic bigot who just wanted something from me?”

“Well Della, here’s a bit of advice,” Gyro began. “If someone is ever kind to you? They just want something.”

Della winced and looked down at her feet. Fenton wasn’t a genius (well, he kind of _was_ , but that wasn’t the point), but it felt like that had crossed a line.

  
He held his breath as he waited for Della’s response. She lifted her head, a fire blazing in her eyes, and pointed an accusing finger at Gyro.

“Okay motherfucker, that’s _it_!” Della said. “I challenge you to a Screwloose!”

Gyro was silent for almost a full minute before letting out a chuckle. Said chuckle soon turned into a laugh, which became a guffaw, which turned into full blown maniacal laughter after a moment. “Really, Della? You _really_ want this?” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I’ve spent the last ten years building and creating, while all you’ve been doing is vacationing on the moon! You can’t beat me!”

Della smirked, but the smirk seemed... wrong, somehow. It wasn’t smug, it was almost... angry. Cold. It made Fenton nervous seeing it from the sidelines, he had no idea how Gyro could handle it head-on.

“Sounds to me like you’re _scared_ , Doctor Gearloose.” Della got right up into Gyro’s face. “What’s wrong, afraid you’ll _lose_? Or better yet, afraid you’ll have a repeat of Dr. Akita and 2-BO?”

Fenton didn’t know what either of those names meant, but it was clear that Gyro did. His face dropped from a smug, condescending smile, to cold anger. “72 hours.” He said, with a deadly calm.

“Good. Who’ll judge?” Della asked, with the same false calm.

“Fenton, obviously.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Della exploded, the cool facade dropping in an instant. “We’re _not_ gonna have your fucking _boyfriend_ be the only judge for this thing!”

“Fenton isn’t my _boyfr_ \- Fenton? Where’d you go?” Gyro looked around, but Fenton was nowhere to be found.

“It doesn’t matter where he went, cuz he’s not gonna fucking judge!”

“Why not? You’ve had your family judge before!”

“That’s different!” Della yelled. As the two of them argued, they didn’t notice Fenton slink away to the elevator. He was gonna need a lot more help if he wanted to make sure those two didn’t kill each other, and now he knew exactly who to ask.

———0———

“Mr. McDuck! Mr. McDuck!” Fenton pounded on the door of the McDuck Manor. “I need your help, Mr. McDuck! _Mr. McDuck_!”

Right when he raised his fist for another round, the manor door creaked open.

“Fenton?” The thick Scottish brogue of Scrooge McDuck sounded out. “What in blazes are ye doing here?”

Fenton exhaled in relief. “Oh thank goodness you’re here sir!” He scooped Scrooge up into a tight hug.

“Curse me kilts lad! Get off of me!” Scrooge yelled.

“Oh!” Fenton quickly dropped Scrooge. “Of course sir, I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to! I was just afraid that you might be out on an adventure and weren’t going to be here which would have been a problem so I guess I was just relieved and wanted to show that but I know that was a breach of privacy -I mean I didn’t at the time but I do now- so I’m so so sorry-”

“Fer heaven’s sake, take a breath lad!” Scrooge cut off Fenton’s rambling. Fenton took a deep breath, and then a couple more, as Scrooge righted his hat. “Right, well, If ye’ve calmed down now,” Scrooge started, “Would ye mind telling me why ye’ve seen fit tae bother me on my day off?”

Fenton took a deep breath and began to explain. “Okay sir. As you may already know, today is the day that Gyro and I usually put aside for making upgrades for the,” Fenton looked around nervously, “The _you-know-what_.” He whispered conspiratorially.

“The Gizmoduck armor?” Scrooge asked.

“I-” Fenton sighed into the air. “Yes, the Gizmoduck armor. That’s what I meant when I said the you-know-what, because you know about the Gizmoduck armor, and _I_ know you know about the Gizmoduck armor, and _you_ know that _I_ know about the Gizmoduck armor, and _I_ know-”

“Lad.”

“Right, getting back on track!” Fenton coughed. “Yes, so: Gyro and I were busy putting the finishing touches on the Gizmo-cannon-”

“Ye mean the one still stuck on yer arm?” Scrooge interrupted, pointing at his right arm.

Fenton hadn’t even realized that he still had it on. He guessed that he didn’t really remember taking it off, though. “Yes, the one still stuck on my arm.

“Anyways, we were putting the final touches on the Gizmo-cannon, when who should show up again but Della Duck!”

Scrooge groaned. “Of fer pity’s sake, Ah thought she had gotten her anger out last time!”

“Yes well, apparently she had a bit she wanted to say than just a punch to the stomach.” Fenton said. “She did claim to only want to talk this time, so Gyro didn’t do anything rash. Thankfully. So they started arguing about Oxy-Chew and the owner’s manual for the Spear of Selene, and then Gyro said something which I think might have crossed a line, because Della got real quiet and challenged him to something called a Screwloose?”

As Fenton said the word Screwloose, he saw Scrooge’s eyes light up. The Scottish Bajillionare began _howling_ with laughter. Scrooge stumbled inside as he laughed, and Fenton, unsure of what was happening, followed.

“I was hoping, sir, as the boss of one of them and the uncle of the other, you could put a stop to this?” Scrooge just kept laughing. “Or at least, maybe you tell me what a Screwloose is?” He asked weakly.

“ _A Screwloose!_ Bless me bagpipes, they havnae had one o’ those in _ages_!” Scrooge wiped a tear from his eye. He spotted Donald reading a book in the living room and motioned to him. “Donnie me lad! You’ll never guess what’s happening!”

Donald didn’t look up from the book. “Someone’s one fire?” He asked.

“Better! Della an’ Gyro are doin’ a Screwloose!”

Donald snorted. “Really? Took ‘em long enough.”

“A _Screwloose_!” Scrooge began to chuckle again.

“Okay, what is a Screwloose?” Fenton asked, seriously lost by this point.

“Oh, it’s nothing too serious lad, just a harmless game the two of them like tae play some times.”

“...Really?” Fenton was unsure about how _‘not serious’_ this was. He had been in the room when Della had challenged Gyro, and it hadn’t seemed like it was just fun and games. Then again, the McDuck’s _could_ be kind of dramatic about that kind of thing. Then again _again_ , they also had a rather... _special_ idea of what constituted as ‘harmless’.

“Really!” Scrooge said. Seeing that Fenton was still unconvinced, he rolled his eyes and began to explain. “Lad, it’s nothing tae be worried about. It’s just a wee competition the about _‘_ who’s the better inventor’, or something like that.”

“ _What?_ ” Fenton’s eyes went wide. “It’s an _inventing_ competition?”

“Aye, that’s what Ah just said.”

“I- Do they have any rules? Limits? Things they can or cannot do?” He asked.

“Ah mean, they usually have a time limit,” Scrooge scratched his chin. “And I don’t think they can build something they’ve already built, but that might just be personal preference. Oh, and they pick a judge to say which invention is the best. Honestly, Ah’ve judged my fair share of Screwlooses, and Ah still donnae know what the criteria are fer a good invention: Ah usually just flip a coin tae decide who wins.”

“But is there anything besides that?” Fenton was growing increasingly desperate.

“Does is matter?” Scrooge asked.

“Of course it matters!” Fenton snapped. “This is _Gyro_ we’re talking about! He makes terrifying, chaotic inventions when given strict guidelines!”

Scrooge raised his eyebrow. “Ah fail to see the problem.”

“Think of what he’ll make _without_ them!” Fenton all but screamed. He grabbed Scrooge’s coat and shook him. “You have to get them to stop! Call it off!”

Scrooge slapped Fenton off and huffed at him. “Now why would Ah do that? A Screwloose is a perfectly good excuse fer the two of them tae release all their pent up energy. Honestly, lad, ye’re overreacting!”

Fenton sighed. Maybe he was? I mean, sure, Gyro would definitely make something bad, but it’s not like Della could be worse, right?

Speak of the devil, Della Duck slammed open the front door. “Alright!” She yelled. “I’m going to need 300 pounds of steel, A shit ton of copper wiring, a bunch of acid, 16 grams of sugar, a bucketful of gunpowder, and something to make sparks!” She stormed through the mansion like a typhoon. “Oh, hey Fenton!” She said brightly, before immediately returning to being like a storm.

Oh no, she might be worse.

Scrooge simply smiled at his niece. “Ah hear ye had a nice talk with Gyro today,” He said.

“Yeah, it was _wonderful_ ,” Della spat. “I need to get to work, I’m going my room!”

“Alright lass, just remember that dinner is in 10 minutes!” Scrooge called.

“Whatever!” Della called back. Fenton saw Scrooge’s gaze harden and trap Della where she was. Della stopped, sighed, and turned around. “Come on, Uncle Scrooge! It’s a _Screwloose_!” She stated, as if he was particularly dense.

“Ah donnae care if it’s the end of the world,” Scrooge retorted. “Ye promised that ye wouldnae skip any more meals.”

“Okay, but this is different, Uncle Scrooge!” Della stomped her metal leg. “I’ve only got _72 hours_! Meals aren’t important enough to waste time on!”

Scrooge’s face dropped from a glare to something worse; a _Look_ that Fenton thought only his M’ma could pull off. Della, for her part, looked immediately abashed.

“Oh come on Unca Scrooge,” She whined. “Not _‘The Look’_.”

“Ye _promised_ , lass.” Scrooge said.

“But it’s a Screwloose!”

“As ye’ve said.”

“Couldn’t we just, I don’t know, bend the rules a little?” Della tried.

Scrooge simply continued to give her _‘The Look’._

Della let out an aggravated, yet defeated, sigh. “ _Fine!_ Fine, I’ll eat.” She grumbled. “But you’d better make sure that Gyro eats too! If _I_ have to waste valuable time on meals, so does he!” She yelled.

“Sure, sure, Della.” Scrooge waved her off. “Now go help the kids get ready.”

“Yes Uncle Scrooge,” Della said dutifully. She trudged off, leaving Fenton with Scrooge again.

“Are you _sure_ you won’t call it off?”

Scrooge sighed. “Lad, even if Ah wanted to, do ye really think Ah could?”

“I suppose not,” Fenton acquiesced.

“Honestly Fenton, what harm will they do?” Scrooge asked as he walked away. “It’s been ten years since the last one!”

Fenton watched him leave with a sort of pained acceptance on his face. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with a bang! It looks like Della and Gyro aren’t very happy with each other at the moment.
> 
> There’s probably going to be two more parts to this one, the Setup and the Event (though I might put them both in the same chapter, we’ll see).
> 
> Also, Della knew about Dr. Akita and 2-BO because Gyro told her about it in the past, when they were both in college.
> 
> Hope you’re looking forward for the next part! ;)


End file.
